The Direction of Life
by Kathrynew30
Summary: "How could the person he loved with all his heart, his best friend, leave him? It wasn't like him to break promises. He always said he would be there, but he's not." One-shot. Any pairing really.


**Alright, so I said this can be any pairing and put one of the characters as Logan. But it doesn't even have to be. I didn't put names, just "he," "him," "they." So this story is totally up to how you want to make it. Though, it is slash.**

**I wrote this one random night and wanted to write something quick, that didn't need to be continued. Also, it doesn't even have to be BTR, I just did that because I love BTR and in my head, Logan is the one going through all this. But again, it is up to you how you want to interpret it.**

**Disclaimer: I do actually own this, basically. Right? Sure.**

* * *

It isn't real. This can't be.

He sits in the room, surrounded by family all crying, sharing memories, mourning. But he's not listening.

He leans back against the wall, sighing.

He's not gone, that's all he can think. He's in the other room, on the computer or in the living room watching television or he's in the kitchen, making dinner. But he's not gone.

He's not reliving memories, because he still believes there are memories to be made. That the final one he has is not the last.

He wants them to all stop talking, so he can listen. He keeps waiting to hear the shuffle of feet in the kitchen, from when he would do the dishes. Waiting to hear the soft snores, from when he would fall asleep on the couch. He keeps waiting to hear him, but he can't. All he can hear are voices and not the one he wants.

He's in a nightmare. That's what has happened. The person he loved most is not gone, he's still right here with him.

It's all just a lie. People keep giving them their sympathy, but he doesn't want it. Why would he? He doesn't need sympathy, he's not in mourning. He wants to yell at them, ask them why they're crying, make them stop all this nonsense. They need to stop lying.

How could the person he loved with all his heart, his best friend, leave him? It wasn't like him to break promises. He always said he would be there, but he's not.

He wants to run through the house, searching for him. He has to be here. He needs to see that face again.

In the end, he does get what he wants. He sees that face one last time, but not the way he wanted. But it was the way he needed.

He stares at the person he loves. He's just laying at one end of the room, not moving, cold. He thinks it looks terrible. That's not how he looked. He didn't look like that when he was here, so why does he now?

This is when his world comes crashing down. He moves closer to him. Every step brings more tears. Once he is a foot away, he can't stop. These tears won't stop.

People see him, see him shaking and trying to catch his breath. They run to him, thankful he is showing some emotion, that he's accepting this. They comfort him, pull him into hugs, tell him it will all be alright. Even though it isn't.

He wants to push them away. He doesn't want their words. Words won't bring him back. All he wants to do is run away and never look back.

He wants to never see that face, cold and hard like it looks now. Why didn't they do what he asked before he left? He never wanted to end like this. But his parents couldn't stand the thought of their son burning away into nothing.

He wanted to shake them, tell them it's not their decision, but he couldn't. It wasn't real, so why would making that choice hurt anyone?

But standing in this room hurts. He knows everyone is feeling pain too, but he wants to believe his is the worst. Nothing will heal this. He's going to continue to live in a nightmare. He wants a dream, not this. Why would anyone?

He stares at that face. It makes him feel ashamed with himself. He's never done anything in his life, at least nothing that merits anything. And looking into that blank face, he realizes how short his life is and about how he never lived up to expectations.

But the guy in front of him never cared. Never saw flaws in him. He saw the good in all life, so why did his life have to be taken away? He's not the one who deserved it. He never deserved to go through that pain, no one ever should.

He always wanted to take the pain away from him, but it was impossible. He wanted to be the one in the hospital; not him. But as everyone continues to tell him, life isn't fair.

He hates them for saying that. Hates them for not letting him believe what he wanted. They had to come and ruin it, even if they didn't know they were.

He doesn't want to deal with this anymore. Doesn't want to deal with real life. He wants to go back to when things were simpler. When they made sense. He wants to go back to when he was five and would run around with his friends, barefoot and without a care in the world. He wants to go back to those mornings, laying in bed, with the sun shining on them. He doesn't want this.

He thinks about all those conversations they had, about their future, about traveling the world, and experiencing life. How he'll never get to anymore. He doesn't want to do any of that anymore. Not without him.

But he knows that he needs to. He has to go and do all those things, because he's not here anymore. He needs to do it for the both of them. It's what he would have wanted.

He wonders where he's going to go from here.

Soon, he is alone in the room. Everyone has left. He didn't realize how long he had been standing there, but he knows they left him to give him space, to come to terms. And while he didn't want to, he has.

He sees the direction his life needs to go and he's going to follow it. He's going to make something out of his life, even if it's not what people want.

He turns to leave, but gives one final look back. He gazes at that face. There's no pain present. It's peaceful. It's content.


End file.
